Storm's Sojourn
by RyokoMist
Summary: It's the last weekend of summer vacation before the kids start their final year at Hill High, and Chelsea invites the gang to her family's beach house to enjoy their last days of freedom. But, trouble always seems to follow Terry wherever he goes. And what's more - things between McGinnis and Max could be changing. But is it for the better?
1. Chapter 1

_Happy New Years everyone! As promised in my other one-shot posted this morning "Resolutions", here is the first chapter to a new fic idea I came up with. I will try to update The Ditch next. Anyways, I hope you guys have a great new year!_

 _Also, to those who don't know: I'll Be, Bite: Afterlife, and The Enemy's were updated within the past couple weeks. Until next time._

* * *

 _ **Storm's Sojourn**_

 **Chapter One**

The alarm clock screeched exactly at 6:00 a.m. and Max groaned uncomfortably before rolling over on the bed, face still buried into the pillow, and extended a hand that slapped the "off" button atop the clock angrily. With the disturbance silenced the brown-skinned beauty gave a pleased hum and drifted back to sleep…that is, until her cell blared its own alarm – much louder than usual. Huh. She didn't remember setting _that_ one to go off. Nevertheless, Gibson ended the cell's noise and rolled onto her side alongside a huff before finally drifting off into the world of slumber-.

" _ **Here we are, don't turn away now. WEEEE ARE THE WARRIORS THAT BUILT. THIS .TOWN-!"**_

She slammed a fist into the comforter, leapt upon her knees and grabbed the phone – stabbing her finger on the call button and screaming wrathfully, "DAMNIT TERRY!"

What answered was a deepened, teasing chuckle that only made the girl growl with even more irritation and annoyance. " _Judging from your attitude I'm guessing you turned off the first two alarms successfully._ " Of course he would know whether or not she was up – the boy was starting to practically live in her head after all these years. Max grumbled some unintelligible words – which he figured was probably an abundance of curses to his name – and the young man smirked from the comfort of the red lit interior of his "business" vehicle before adding, " _Well, I knew you wouldn't be able to resist the third alarm. After all, you're addicted to the sound of my voice_."

"I'm going to be addicted to kicking your ass, McGinnis," retorted Gibson as she relaxed on her knees and ran a hand through her disheveled pink hair. Her almond brown eyes read the clock at 6:07 p.m. and swung an exposed leg over the side of the bed before crawling out and padding on bare feet for the kitchen in the girl's extra-large black t-shirt and matching panties. Last night had been a steamer, thank God for cooler temperature today.

" _Anyways_ ," continued Terry McGinnis with yawn, " _You up? For real, this time?_ "

Max raised a brow – just noticing that it wasn't _Terry's_ voice that she had been conversing with, but Batman's…which only meant-. "You promised," the girl whined.

Damn it. Batman massaged the spot between his eyes and nose wearily. " _I know Max, but the splicers were at it again last night, fucking Mad Stan got lose – AGAIN!"_ Max cursed once more and this time he couldn't even find the strength to hide his laughter. Honestly, Mad Stan's continuance in escaping from whatever hellhole Gordon put him in was getting exhausting. _Ridiculously_ so. " _I had to take off. But I'm still coming, swear._ "

Max stood in front of the counter pouting even though she knew why doing so was pointless. "Look, maybe you should just stay. Gotham needs you more than we do-."

" _Somehow I doubt that,_ " cuts in the Dark Knight. He could practically hear his best friend roll her eyes…and it gave him far more pleasure than he'd openly admit. " _Chelsea's gonna pick you up instead. I'm coming Max – that's final. You can't get rid of me that easy._ " As if she could even dream of doing it anyway, he cockily thought to himself. Gun shots reverberated in the alley to the left and Batman's white eyes narrowed. " _Uh-oh…_ "

Max stiffened. "Ter?" she urged, wincing for a brief moment that she'd actually referred to him by name while on the job. It was against the rules, and she expected him to harshly put her in check about it – but concern for his safety immediately cancelled out the rules. In fact, after all this time working together and having known each other, the rules almost didn't even apply anymore…for either of them.

" _Gotta go,_ " Batman cut in before she could get even more pissed off at him. " _I'll talk to you soon. Love you, bye!_ "

Without even waiting for a response, the other line was cut and Max sighed. "'Kay," she whispered to no one on the phone before chucking it over her shoulder onto the couch. Gibson grabbed a bagel off the countertop and heated it up prior to smothering the bread in some cream cheese. Throwing it and some grapes and strawberries on a plate, she nestled on the couch and turned on the morning news, nibbling on her light but satisfactory breakfast. By normal circumstances a younger Maxine Gibson was not fond of watching the manipulated and brainwashing propaganda that was today's media…However, since she'd found out her best friend was the Batman himself, the teen genius had found monitoring certain news outlets to be – she struggled to think of a word – _beneficial_. The anchor was already talking about how Batman had ended the dastardly antics of the splicers during the earlier hours – and Max openly welcomed the smug grin that washed over those lusciously plump lips. Unfortunately, Mad Stan was still on the loose (why in the hell didn't they have a better way of retaining this psycho?!) and Gotham P.D. was utilizing all their resources to locate the insane domestic terrorist. Though by "resources" the reporter had no clue that Batman fit that bill.

With breakfast finally devoured, Max took a shower and threw on a pair of dark jean shorts, Atlantic blue flare tank top, flip flops, and fastened in a pair of matching feathered earrings accented with red, brown and black – only because she knew Cunningham would have her ass if Max didn't have some form of accessory worn on person. Gibson walked over to the corner in her bedroom and grabbed a black small duffel bag by the handle before dragging it into the living room and dumping it off at the front door begrudgingly and plopping once more on the couch to monitor the tele for any updates on Batman's progress.

Ordinarily Max would have chosen to spend the last Friday and weekend of her summer vacation curled up in bed and watching reruns of Red Band Society, Scream Queens, and Twisted (damn ABCF for denying twisters a second season!) – Not waking up before the break of day. Then again, she supposed it was for a good cause. This weekend not only marked the end of summer vacation, but also the beginning of Max's senior year at Hill High…Any regular kid would be ultra-pepped about that, but the small clique of friends knew what lied "beyond" senior year…the year when everything the teens had ever known would officially come to an end.

Still, good ole Chelsea Cunningham was not going to allow any of them to be depressed about their potentially final year together before life split the group apart. Instead of sulking, Chelsea invited (more like forced) the crew to her family's beach house in northern Gotham for the weekend. It was a private little residential area and with school starting, the summer influx of tourists would be gone. The group would have an entire beach to themselves. Plus, they'd all have a weekend to escape from their crazy personal lives. Who'd even dream about turning that down?

There was a timid yet authoritative knock at the front door as Max glided to answer it. When the door slid open Chelsea Cunningham stood there waiting in all her blonde glory – wearing a pair of darkened sunglasses and extra tight cream colored, strapless beach dress with way too high wedged sandals. As for accessories – Chelsea had so much gold on her wrists, ears, and neck that Max was sure the sun had risen inside of the apartment. Despite the excessive jewelry though, Gibson had to admit that it looked shway on the popular dame. "Max, honey," chimed Cunningham as she stepped across the threshold looking absolutely perfect for seven in the morning, "you ready?"

Max motioned for the small duffel beside Chelsea's foot and stood to give her female bestie a hug and peck on the cheek. "If by ready you mean if I'm perfectly content with getting up at the crack of dawn, then no."

Chelsea pulled off her sunglasses so Max could see the teen roll her eyes in annoyance before retorting, "Well if you'd rather spend an extra hour and a half stuck in morning traffic then by all means, go back to bed! Otherwise, shut your sexy ass and let's get this shit to the car."

Max raised a brow. "You think I'm sexy?" she teased striking a lame and absolutely horrendous attempt at "hot" pose, making Chelsea point a finger towards her throat and gag before playfully kicking at Max's feet as the brown skinned beauty grabbed her bag and ushered the two out of the apartment, locking up. As they walked towards the elevator Chelsea linked arms with Max and began bouncing up and down like a child excitedly.

"This is going to be so much fun, Maxie!" she harped, clasping her palms together like some early century English novel character. "The whole weekend to ourselves on the beach?"

Max chuckled as the stepped on the elevator and descended, "I still think inviting the boys to stay was a slagged idea."

Cunningham raised a brow. "What?" she questioned. "Nelson isn't going to pop up in your room in the middle of night and-."

Max made a disgusted face. "That's not what I'm talking about, Chels!"

The door opened and the two girls exited and headed out the front door, the lighter of the two pausing in thought for a moment. Then, a mischievous glint spread across her face as Chelsea leaned in closer for Max and poked at the female's ribs playfully. "Ooooh. I see. Well, even though you've had him waiting for forever, I'm sure Terry won't steal your cookies in the middle of the night, no matter how much you may secretly want him too-."

"CHELSEA!" screeched Gibson as she pulled her arm out of Cunningham's and enflamed red in anger…or embarrassment. She wasn't exactly sure which was which right now. Meanwhile, Chelsea successfully wore a look of complete innocence. "That's NOT what I'm TALKING ABOUT!" They approached Chelsea's convertible BMW parked at the curb as Chelsea unlocked the vehicle and Max tossed her bag into the back seat via the down roof on top of her friend's. "I'm talking about the fact that Terry and Nash can't stand one another," corrected the pink haired genius as the female's slipped into the ride and Chelsea started it up before pulling off for the highway. "Do you really think having them under the same roof is a smart move?"

"Relax Max," soothed Chelsea with the wind rushing through her hair and a smile on her face. "Between my little bikini and your sweet, cuddly disposition, Nash and McGinnis will be too busy cuddling up to us to even think about each other." Chelsea merged onto the almost empty freeway and Max shook her head – still smiling despite herself.

After a few moments of watching the Gotham sky grow decorated with almost supernatural shades of red, yellow, purple, and blue from the ever approaching sunrise and a song from Coldplay flowing through the speakers, Max felt her phone vibrate and smiled at the name on the screen. Touching the answer key, Max turned her head out the side of the car for as much privacy as she'd be allowed with Chelsea, and spoke softly, "Hello?"

" _Coldplay huh? I take it you guys are on the road._ "

"We just left actually," replied the girl, ignoring Chelsea's poking at her thigh demanding to know who she was talking to. "How's the madness?"

" _Just finished up,_ " answered Batman from inside the Batmobile as he drove through that all too familiar and almost homey tunnel running through the underground of Wayne Manor. " _Gordon promised Mad Stan would get placed somewhere he couldn't get out of._ "

Max chuckled, "In other words: you'll be back in Gotham by the time he escapes again." Batman groaned all knowingly and her laughter got louder, making Chelsea all the more insistent and nosy.

"Is that Terry?" the blonde hollered loud enough for him to hear. "He'd better not be late!"

"Or not show," added Max with a scoff.

Terry put the car in park and climbed out and over the vehicle, dropping stealthily onto the launch pad with ease. " _Hey, I said I was coming, didn't I?_ " He ignored the unsure silence on the other end; knowing all too well that these days his word wasn't always the best thing to run by. " _I'll be there, promise. I wouldn't miss this vacation for a hundred Mad Stans. Hold on._ "

While McGinnis and Wayne conversed silently in the background, Max turned her attention once more for the sunrise and stared at the brilliance of nature in humbled awe. It wouldn't be long before canvas painting of the waking sun vanished for the full force of day's light, so this fleeting moment was the best. What she wanted the most before this weekend was over, was for the gang to spend their final moment of freedom together – watching the brief beauty of the sunrise come and go before life carried on. "It's beautiful," she whispered to no one in particular.

Terry McGinnis turned from Bruce and paused, holding the phone close to his ear as if he were staring into the very eyes of Max herself. " _You okay?_ " the vigilante asked his best friend in a tone full of absolute care, concern, and dedication to her. The boy could not lie: without Max, he wouldn't have made it as far as he had. He relied on her so much, and the guilt in not being able to reciprocate the favor as a true best friend should stung. It sucked even more because he was pretty sure that he would never be able to be what she needed no matter how much he wanted to. Deep down, Terrence waited for the day when it would eventually become too much for Max to take; when she wouldn't be able to take it anymore…just like Dana had. Until then, however, the futuristic hero of legend would do what he could (whenever he was still long enough to notice it) for her.

Max smiled softly as his concern and care was easily interpreted and came through the phone in a manner that almost felt like he was giving the girl a comforting hug. Max snuggled deeper into the convertible seat as if it was his arms and sighed. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just hurry up, okay?"

Momentarily relieved, Terry shook his head whimsically. " _Got it. I'll see you in a couple hours_."

"Looking forward to it." The line disconnected and Max gave Chelsea a big grin as the to-do daughter of money stretched out a hand and placed it on top of Max's for comfort. She could sense it – but still wanted this weekend to be a fun one for all of them. That's right, they would have a great time, all of them.

Chelsea applied more pressure to the gas and the car picked up speed as they zoomed down the freeway, only a couple hours away from what she hoped would be a temporary paradise. A couple hours away from eradicating the fact that Max wasn't fine…that she'd lied. This weekend was going to be perfect.

So Chelsea hoped…

* * *

To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2

_Hey guys, here's another update! I'm going to try and do another update for something by next weekend. This chapter is kind of filler-y. Please excuse any grammar/punctuation mistakes._

 _Guest reviewer: No worries, I never intended to erase Dana from this fic ^_^ - in fact, she's going to be a regular character here. AND in this fic, Dana and Terry are still going to be on good terms and even friends. Dana had no real mention in the first chapter because her arrival in this chapter is different and would not have fit in, so you guys would have had to wait until I introduced her. But Dana is here and her friendship with Terry and the others is not going to be negatively effected by the break-up. I want to portray her positively because like you said, she's friends with everyone and I can't imagine what the friendships would be like without everyone on good terms. Thanks for your review!_

* * *

 _ **Storm's Sojourn**_

 **Chapter Two**

* * *

The BMW convertible passed a large old school wooden sign colored navy blue with white outlines and words highlighted in gold that read, " _Welcome to North Gotham Bay_." Chelsea grumbled something about the sign being so uncomfortably archaic, but Max silently disagreed. As much as the genius teen might have enjoyed today's technology, it was because of her ease in accessing it that Gibson had kind of grown tired of it. There was something divinely pleasant about the "old natured" ways; something about the natural motion and simpler times of life in control that soothed her. Everybody else would call her crazy, but ever since learning Terry's secret, Max's appreciation of this kind of thing had escalated immensely.

As the car sped along the road, they passed a woodland line before finally breaking out of it and coming into the heart of town known as _Village Center_. Shops and businesses of all kinds surrounded them: from grocery markets, to hair and clothe salons, to doctor and local lawyers' offices. Everything was different here from Gotham – the buildings were all made of brick and fashioned in an 80's kind of style. It reminded her of Amity Island just a bit. The sidewalks on both sides of the main road were lined with planted trees and benches, old school light posts, and baskets of multi-colored flowers hung from hooks beneath them. It made the walkways look full of color – homey; welcoming. It was refreshing. A world away from the world. Chelsea glanced out the corner of her eye and smiled at Max's childlike awe of this place. "I might like my modern shit," Chelsea mused, "but even I have to admit there's something about this place that makes a girl feel at peace. I could never _live_ here – but whenever I need a break, the Bay always gives me what I need."

In a place like this, how could it not? Gibson bit her bottom lip and sat back in the leather seat. "Yeah, I can totally feel it." Chelsea turned the car off the main road and maneuvered through a couple of small neighborhoods before pulling onto a residential block with a sign at its corner that identified the place as " _Shoreline Estates_ ". And it wasn't kidding. Max could easily make out the beach and water behind the homes, but it was the houses themselves that distracted her from it. They were beach houses alright – beach houses for the wealthy. Massive dwellings lined the block, each one having a stifling amount of land between them to offer each home owner a decent share of privacy. "Do people live here year round?" Max asked, the shock evident in her voice.

Chelsea chuckled as they approached the block's end. "Not on _Shoreline_. Most of the houses here are vacation only – summer or holidays. Peg it: notice how there's no cars or anything?" Max blinked as she looked around, realizing Chelsea's point. As inviting and well-kept as the street looked, Max couldn't help but notice its unnatural emptiness. Cunningham continued, "Everybody's gone. With school starting up it's pretty much abandoned. Well, except for a couple families like the Christensen's and the Aberdeen's. Aberdeen's are in early retirement. Kids are grown and ish. The Christensen's are old as dirt – but sweet."

"Does anybody _live_ in the Bay?" Max questioned, sarcastic. Though part of her was genuinely curious. How could a place like this willingly stay uninhabited year round? It was perfection – isolated perfection – which was even better.

"Sure!" chimed Chelsea, raising the sunglasses past her hairline and gesturing her head in the opposite direction. " _Bayfront Coast_ is a couple blocks away – big houses like this. Everybody on that block are residents. Couple smaller neighborhoods on the other side of us with residents too. This town lives off tourists." Finally at the end of the block, Chelsea made a right into a long driveway that rounded to the back of the property. The property: a two-storied white paneled Victorian styled beach home with wooden front steps and massive posted porch encircling the entirety of the house. The porch was decorated with pottery and flowers and a set of straw chairs and long couch with orange-ish pillow tops that sat on the right end against the railing. The light grey roof slanted each way as if running along its own private path – each section eventually leading up to the rounded tower on the left end of the home. The tower itself had a glass door that opened into its own spacey patio overlooking the Shoreline residential area as well as the beach's totality. Max couldn't shake the thought that this place seemed too warm, even for the Cunningham family's standards.

As if reading her best friend's mind, Chelsea drove down the driveway and turned around the hook where a squared concrete place for parking awaited them at the foot of another set of steps descending from the anciently beautiful porch that led up to the doubled wooden back doors – an intricate pattern of glass in the middle of them to offer an elegant look out at any visitors. "My mom was pretty big on classic architecture. Anything seen as refined was her forte. Victorian, Chalet, Chateauesque, Palladian. You name it, she loved it." Cunningham turned off the BMW and sighed with a long stretch above her head before giving Max a wink. "As much as I may complain, I guess I get that from her. C'mon."

The two girls exited the vehicle, grabbed their luggage, and made their way up the steps to the rear doors. While Chelsea fiddled with her keys and cussed in rage at the possibility of having left the right ones back in Gotham with the "dumb old guy" (aka her father), Max sauntered towards the edge of the railing and set her duffel bag down, leaning against it and staring out at the Bay. The sand was so golden it almost shone against the morning sunlight. She could clearly make out the white of the crested waves in the distance as the water crashed against the shoreline in a calming hum. The water was so vibrant and loud with color that even from the porch it looked a radiant blue. Further down the beach well beyond the house, were trees looking almost tropical in origin. But unlike in the other direction, these trees were sparser before a large bulking object of grey and black met her eyes. Rocks.

It was official: North Gotham Bay was amazing. Immediately Max knew she made the right decision in coming and almost wished the group had arrived for this stay much sooner; three days hardly seemed like enough time. A gull called out from somewhere above and Gibson was so captivated by the peaceful lure that Max didn't hear Chelsea proclaim the house was now ready for entry. She was trapped in the beauty of this place… _until_ a set of car doors slammed, and a tanned face with green eyes and unmistakable red hair suddenly popped up right beneath her. "Heya Max!" startled the owner of the face, causing Gibson to stumble back with a cry of surprise before playful recognition spread across the girl's features.

Standing there beneath the porch wearing a pair of jean shorts, sandals, and a white men's tank, was none other than the sports junkie himself: "NASH!" cried Max with excitement.

Nelson smirked wide at her cheer and became positive that this moment would be the pinnacle of his entire weekend. "Missed me, doll?" he questioned with a wink. Nelson Nash had spent his summer vacation out of state with the rest of the sports team thanks to coach for some heavy training. Just as it was the last year for the teens at Hamilton Hill High, it was also coach's last year before retirement and he'd be damned if his boys didn't make it to nationals before he left. Nelson had left without the chance of saying a proper goodbye to the gang – the only well wishes he'd gotten from the group of friends were text messages every once and while wishing him luck. Now he was back – and they'd have a proper celebration about it!

"You lovable little asshole!" decreed Max as she swung legs first over the railing and dropped down into Nelson's opened arms – both of them chuckling – as the jock caught her and began to whirl the black genius around. Despite Terry and Nelson virtually hating each other, Max no longer found the jock to be completely annoying. In fact, after being stuck with the Hill High sports captain for Family Studies and taking care of the egg baby, the two opposites had actually…bonded. Their relationship went from eye rolls and payment for completed homework to one of friendship. Of course, McGinnis hated it because that friendship meant Nelson was around him way more that Terry (or Nash) would have liked. But it's not like they could avoid it – not if it meant doing it for Max. Regardless of their disdain for one another, they did their best to behave for the sake of the group.

Chelsea peered over the railing, lightly shaking her cell phone camera back in forth in indication that she'd taken pictures of the reunion, and smirked in spite of herself. "Nelson, I thought you said you'd meet us here, earlier?"

Nash, still holding Max up with one arm and using the other to slap hands with Cunningham, answered breathily, "Yeah, well, I went to pick up Blade but she kept me dragging like a dreg to argue with her parents – only to find out she's not coming." Chelsea quizzically raised a brow but Nelson stated self-explanatorily, "Grounded." Cunningham nodded as if the answer to life itself had been given to her. Chelsea had warned that girl about throwing a house party less than 24 hours before her parents were coming back in town…

A smoother voice called from the parking area, "Hey guys!" Max peered around Nash's arms and squirmed out of them, taking off through the sand until she'd crashed into the arms of her other dear friend – Dana Tan. Dana wore a cute pale yellow, mid-thigh sundress decorated with a few intricate strands of multi-colors that made her look like a beach goddess gracing the world with her presence. Max threw her arms around Tan and the Asian beauty giggled as she hugged her African American friend back in response. "God Max, you'd think I'd died!"

Max pulled back from the hug and blushed nervously. "You've been out of the country since summer vacation started. I've missed you."

Dana brushed a strand of hair out of Max's face and cocked her head, feeling grateful for her friend more than ever at this moment. Basically, everyone in the group had been away from Gotham over the vacation and poor Max and Terry had been stuck here all alone; and given McGinnis's demanding schedule, Tan figured Max was lonelier than she'd let on. Dana had been in China visiting family. She honestly didn't think she'd be back in time for this weekend excursion but was more than glad that it was possible to accomplish. Tan missed her friends more than anything while away, and seeing as how this might be the last year she'd ever have with them, it made this weekend a bittersweet one. "I've missed you too, love."

"Ahem!" came a cough on the other side of the car…a car that clearly wasn't Dana's. All eyes turned and widened with intrigue at what – or who – they laid upon.

Tan gasped and gave the approaching others a look of surprise before gently plunking herself against the forehead with a fist. "Right, how could I forget?" Dana took Max's hand and led her around the black pick-up to stand before a tall figure leaning against the driver's door with folded arms. "Max, Chels, Nash, I want you to meet Brent." Brent, a nearly 6 foot, shoulder length blonde, athletic build hunk rose from his spot and extended a hand to shake with the gathering friends.

Chelsea bit her bottom lip and thoroughly overlooked the handsome stranger before asking with a croon, "Sooooo, THIS is the mysterious Brent we've been hearing so much about?" Cunningham made her approach and leaned forward into the young man, looking up into his hazel eyes with speculation as he nervously smiled. "Why so mysterious?"

Brent fidgeted and gave Dana a pleading look as Tan giggled and took his hand to comfort him. Brent coughed into his fist and smiled so sincerely that even Max's heart fluttered. "Nice to meet you," his deepened voice offered. "Dana's told me so much about you guys. She really cares about you."

Nelson snorted with a cocky grin, "Damn straight she does. So Brent, as Dana's new beau, I have to ask – do you bench?"

Brent grinned, obviously relieved there was a guy here he might have something in common with. "Yeah, I plan on joining the wrestling team once I come to Hill." Nelson nodded approvingly, though silently tucked that tidbit of information away for the time being. Nelson would do a thorough investigation on this newcomer later to see how much of an asset he could prove to the sports team or teams…OR how much of a potential threat Brent could be against Nash's crown as MVP and top athlete. But for now, the jock would play nice and enjoy the reason as to why they'd come.

Dana looked around the faces gathered and asked with a hidden twinge of concern in her voice, "Where's Terry? Isn't he still coming?" Despite their breakup, Dana and Terry had remained faithfully strong friends. The way they saw it, they'd been through enough together to be able to maintain that respect and love – besides, they all shared mutual friends. So romance didn't work out between them – and maybe all of that would be different if Terry's father hadn't met such a horrible end – but that they could still remain close even past all of that showed just how much the two still meant to each other (and always would). There had been no hesitation about either of them coming here for the weekend; Dana's concern however was what McGinnis would think of Brent. She wanted Terry's approval. She didn't _need_ it – but it seemed right. After all, if there was one thing Dana was positively sure about when it came to Terrence McGinnis – other than that he sucked at Family Studies (she smirked to herself) – it was that he was an incomparable judge of character. She wanted to move on, but she wanted to be sure that things would continue to be okay between the two of them and the group dynamic.

All eyes in an instant fell on Max, who raised a brow and placed a hand on her hip before sassing, "And you're looking at me, why?"

Nelson wiped the rearview mirror of his prize red convertible and stated mischievously, "Because that dreg is lost without you. He can't find a window unless you give him a pot to piss in first." Chelsea rolled her eyes at the analogy as Brent reached into his truck and grabbed him and Dana's things.

"I'm not his babysitter," pouted Max. Still she sighed and pulled out her phone for any new texts. Nothing. Disappointment threatened to show itself but Max already convinced herself that no matter what happened, she wouldn't allow herself to be hurt or upset about it. At the end of the day, her best friend had a responsibility to keep Gotham safe – and if that responsibility meant missing out on things normal kids their age would do, then it was fine; after all, the two of them were far from normal anyway. Secretly, though, she would have just wished that she'd stayed home too in order to help. But, this was something she needed – whether Max would have admitted it before or not. Gibson shrugged her shoulders and began to make way up the steps and to where she'd left her duffel bag as the remaining company filed onto the porch as well with their belongings and hovered around the front door. When Max made her way back towards them, only then did her phone buzz and she briefly glanced at the screen. Reading the words she fought the smile that so badly wanted to break free across her lips before announcing, "Terry'll be here soon."

"Well," offered Chelsea as she pushed open the double doors, "while we wait, how about a tour?" The group trailed inside the home, and once everyone had crossed the threshold they all froze in awe at the sight before them. A foyer of pure Volakas marble glistened across the entire length of the floors as far as the teens could see; it seemed to glow even louder as it reflected off the white walls that were decorated with multi-colored portraits, or accented against large 3ft tall black vases with orange, green, and an assortment of red shaded flowers and vines intricately placed so they appeared to nearly dance up the walls.

As Max feverishly typed into her cell phone, Chelsea spun forward and extended her arms with a royal bow. "Welcome," she said, "to Chateau Cunningham."

* * *

As Terry swerved through traffic, the sound of his motorcycle engine pushing with speed, the communication device installed in his helmet gave three short beeps to inform the teen of his newly arrived text message. Terry touched a button on the side of his helmet and commanded with a muffle, "Read Text." Almost immediately a smooth, robotic voice spoke quietly in his ear so as to not offer a full distraction from the road: " _Text from…Max… 'Pedal to the metal, twip – or I'll have fun for the both of us.' End text."_

Terrence McGinnis smirked and shook his head in amazement at how much that girl just loved to push him to do what she knew was in his best interest, even when he'd rather be making up sleep the night life took away from him. "She's lucky I love her," he chuckled before pushing the throttle and zooming closer to the vacation of a lifetime.

* * *

 _To Be Continued..._


	3. Chapter 3

_Just something I came up with. OOC and ish going on, but I promised I'd update. Anyways, we'll see how this story goes. Please excuse any typos._

 _Also, The Enemy's Heart, and The Ditch were update a couple weeks ago. Also did a Big Time Rush one-shot. I've gotten a few ideas for some more Merry/Tax one-shots so who knows how that'll go?_

 _Until next time._

* * *

 _ **Storm's Sojourn**_

 **Chapter Three**

* * *

As much as everyone tried to behave otherwise, fact of the matter was that the grand tour was awe-inspiring. How could it not be? The closest thing these kids had come to a conventional home was images on the internet; but this place right here was the epitome of old school elegance – especially as they learned that it didn't just look the part. That's right. While not completely obsolete, Chateau Cunningham lacked a vast majority of the advanced technology of the world today. Nevertheless, it was shway.

The Victorian beach house (more like mansion) was as beautiful on the inside as it was on the out. Chelsea lead the group of teens through every room, offering a brief and somewhat cocky overview of each: the kitchen was like that of a professional bistro, surrounded in stainless steel equipment and shiny wooden floors and cabinets; the living room was nearly half the size of the house and tastefully decorated in cream and gold French Provincial furniture consisting of two sofas and loveseats, and a number of chairs – as well as a white sculpture of two small angels holding up a large basin, elegant drapes over the windows, and other small tidbits to accent the room. Dana whispered something to Brent about it having a Greek feel – like it belonged in a chamber on Mount Olympus. The dining room was washed with a tropical feel as a large, rounded brown mosaic table with a gold, blue, and green henna flower pattern and light brown pillowed steel chairs sat in the center of the room. An indoor green plant of some exotic variety rested in each corner of the floorplan as massive, wrought iron Tuscan candle sconces were strategically placed on three of the four walls – its iron weaved intricately in a pattern that compelled the onlooker into an ancient world. The fourth wall was actually a set of sliding-glass doors facing the beach.

The rest of the house's main level consisted of closets, a bathroom, and library – each looking different from the other, each with its own interesting story as to its fruition. From there Chelsea directed her guests upstairs where five bedrooms and three full baths waited for the pickings. Originally all the girls were going to stay in a room and the boys in another, but seeing as how Dana arrived with her surprise guest the rooms were pretty much a free for all. "This place is shway!" declared Nash as he popped out of one of the bedrooms with a smile on his face. "The balcony covers this whole floor."

"Really?" squealed Dana as she took Brent by the hand and lead him into a room beyond the first bathroom at the end of the hall closest to the stairs. Each room was already furnished with fresh linen. Though each bed style was virtually different, the layout was practically the same. One Queen-size bed equipped with nightstands and a bed stool at the foot, a chaise lounge, walk-in closet, and large mirrored dresser with matching armoire. Each room led out through French doors onto a white railed balcony looking straight out at the beach.

Downstairs the house phone rang and Chelsea raised a hand to dismiss herself from the eager group. "You guys make yourselves at home. Maybe once we get settled I'll take you into town. I've got to pick up groceries for the weekend anyway." The blonde winked and danced down the stairs – shortly after the phone stopped ringing and Cunningham's soft voice could be heard mumbling down below.

As Nelson already claimed his room and Dana and Brent began to unpack their belongings in the bedroom they'd chosen, Max quietly wandered to the very end of the hall and crossed the threshold of a room that made her react audibly. This room was much different from the others. Instead of being carpeted and decorated with bright furnishings, its flooring was a rich Padauk; it was accented tremendously due to the cream-toned walls. In the corner was the brown Meridian armoire while its dresser counterpart sat on the wall directly across from the bed. The bed: a four-posted one with curtains drizzling from each corner, the white fabric tied securely against its respective post to give it an exotic and alluring feel. "Now this is what I'm talking about," the teen mused to herself as she trailed her fingers over a post before her eyes found a secondary door to the right of the headboard just beside the balcony exit. Curious, Max approached the dark brown door and – gently grabbing the handle as if worried someone waited behind it – pulled it open to find a staircase spiraling upwards where bright light freely trickled through. Max tilted her head a bit to get a glimpse of what laid above…to no avail.

Looks like she was going on a little trip. After looking around the bedroom, Gibson slowly climbed up the carpeted steps until a ray of sunlight momentarily blinded the young woman. Once she regained her bearings, Max bit her lip and exhaled in wonder as she realized that she was inside the house's tower. The floor and walls were hardwood very much like in the room below, and housed two leather loveseats on the left beside low but wide glass windows. Beyond these, Max went up a single step where another leather loveseat with reclining mechanisms and small woven blanket thrown across the arms sat to the left – beside it: a lamp and tiny bookcase stuffed to the brim with classic literature. Max kneeled in front of the bookcase, skimming a finger over the titles until coming across one of her favorites and pulled it from the shelf. _The Count of Monte Cristo_ by Alexandre Dumas. Raising back up to full height, Gibson trails her hand against the perfectly manicured book in excited longing; if nothing else, she would enjoy the hell out of reading this over the weekend. Gibson may have been a science, mathematics, and technologies geek/nerd, but she had a thing for reading like none other. Though she excelled with material of the scholastic nature, nothing made Max happier than history and fiction…definitely fiction.

The sound of gulls calling from outside causes Max to press the book against her abdomen before trotting further ahead until she steps outside the doors and stands in the summer sun on the private balcony of the tower. Gibson sighed whimsically at her view, deciding right then and there that the room downstairs would be hers simply for the unlimited opportunity of coming up here for this view and privacy. The wind danced against her shirt as the girl pressed a hand against her scalp to prevent her hair from being completely ruined. She looked down to the right and caught sight of Dana and Brent outside of their room enjoying the view before engaging in a passionate make-out session. Max chuckled to herself, genuinely glad for Tan since she looked so happy and content in the company of her new beau (and even more so that the group was able to maintain their friendship despite the Terry break up. It only proved how awesome of a girl Dana was). Music played from Nelson's room and the soon to be senior genius rolled her eyes: great, they'd hardly been here for an hour and Nash was already trying to melt their brains with his bad taste in music.

But somehow it didn't matter quite as much as the girl thought it would. How could anything damper the high this place gave? Max sighed and leaned forward, resting her arms against the balcony railing and placing her upper weight against them as her rear end extended lazily. This place was great, amazing, beyond shway…still, she really wished he was here to enjoy it with her. This might be their last year together after all…

* * *

"Where the hell am I?" demanded McGinnis as he stopped the motorcycle on some residential street just outside of downtown North Gotham Bay. He was tired and really just wanted to stay home for this weekend and try to catch up on some much needed sleep, but he'd promised Max he'd make it out here before even thinking about it – and seeing as how he'd already broken five promises, the teen didn't want to disappoint her again. Of course Max understood why he couldn't always be around, and she never complained – but Terry still felt like a shitty friend – especially when she was so…tame about it.

But now the vigilante was growing irritated. He was already on edge from his fight with Mad Stan and those other idiots, and then there was the fact that he'd have to stay in the same house as Nelson Nash for an entire weekend and McGinnis was positive he'd be locked up in the local jail before the night was out because of it. Top that off with being lost and life presented the equation for a pissed off Terrence. He'd been riding up and down Village Center and its cross streets for almost fifteen minutes after cruising through a part of town called _Bayfront Coast_ – and he knew that was the wrong neighborhood because the houses there didn't scream being worthy of the Cunningham name. Of course he couldn't ask the locals for directions because 1. He couldn't remember the name of the block he needed, and 2. Because Chelsea wasn't a born local, which meant her family probably wouldn't be known well…also because he was too prideful to ask for help.

But after almost an hour of going in circles enough had been enough. Terry dialed Chelsea and within minutes was zooming off to where he needed to be. As the motorcycle cruised the streets, Terry caught occasional glimpses of the beach through the houses and shrubbery until finally turning onto a block dubbed _Shoreline Estates_. The future Bat cursed under his breath, feeling completely insignificant coming to a place like this. He thought Chelsea said she had a beach house, not a beach _mansion_! McGinnis slowed the speed on his bike, noting how beautiful but empty the block virtually was. Secretly he had a twinge in his gut that something might go down under these circumstances and the Batman nearly kicked himself – praying he hadn't just jinxed the vacation.

A form on the porch of the very last house waved at him and Terry turned into the drive immediately recognizing Chelsea. As he went up the drive and around the house's corner, Cunningham was there to meet him on the porch – she looked slightly irritated by his late appearance and McGinnis merely sighed as he turned off the bike and lifted off his helmet. "It's about time, McGinnis," scolded Cunningham as she came down from her perch and placed a hand on the handlebar of the ride. The girl offered a smirk however – letting the teen know that he wasn't entirely screwed.

"It's nice to see you too, Chelsea," stated Terry with a roll of the eyes. "How was your vacation? Good I hope."

"Don't give me that crap, you're late."

"Yeah, well, I had to work for Mr. Wayne. Double shift." McGinnis turned his head and noted Nash and Chelsea's cars, but cocked his head curiously at the black truck. "Who has the pick-up?"

Chelsea coughed in her hand. "Dana's here…she brought a…guest."

Terry lifted his head all knowingly and went, "Aaaah. I see. That's great. Where's the asshole?"

"Terry!" Cunningham screeched.

McGinnis shrugged as if insulted. "I meant Nelson!"

"Oh!" Chelsea's cheeks started to burn as she coughed in her hand – her version of an apology. "He's upstairs in his room. Max too."

"WHAT?!" With that Terry's eyes went wide as he quickly dismounted and practically threw his helmet onto the bike, ripping the key from the ignition, and began running up the porch to Chelsea's surprise. He ignored Chelsea's cry of shock as he rushed through the door and headed straight for the stairs. Max? In the room with Nash? All alone? Oh no. Oh hell no! There was no way Gibson was going to be left in a room with Nelson alone while Terry knew good and well the crap that Nash was capable of. Despite how tired and sore his muscles were from the ride there and work he'd done all night, McGinnis prepared to rush up to the second floor when something struck the back of his head. "Ow! What the-?" He turned to face an exhausted Chelsea…missing a shoe.

Cunningham limped towards the boy and grabbed his ear, giving it a tug to bring him to her eye level. Terry winced but she didn't care: especially not after he made her damn near sprint to catch up with him before he could do something stupid because obviously the idiot had a problem listening. What the heck was Mr. Wayne feeding this kid?! "Listen here, twip," she began breathlessly. "And really _listen_ this time!" Chelsea growled. "I am not going to have you charging up there starting no kind of shiz with Nash, do you hear me? Much as I love Max, I WILL send your childish ass right back to Gotham." She tugged his ear harder to solidify the seriousness of her threat and the Dark Knight found himself submitting with painful pleas of understanding to the blonde's commands. Satisfied with his agony, Chelsea let the captive ear go and bent down to pick up her other shoe. "Nelson is upstairs in his room. Max is upstairs as well. Now whether she's in the same room with Dana – or Nash, or hell if all of them are up there snuggling up and telling Care Bear stories – you are going to keep your chill. Max is a grown woman and what she does with who she does is her business. Now act like you've got some sense and follow me."

Without waiting for a response (knowing that she'd receive compliance anyway), Chelsea pushed McGinnis aside and headed up the steps, ignoring his grumblings as the boy followed after her. Once they reached the top of the steps, Chelsea peered through each room until coming to one that was occupied. She spotted Dana and Brent on the patio kissing and dragged Terry by to give them some privacy. Of course he was still able to catch a glimpse of the two, and McGinnis was grateful to be taken passed that. Sure he and Dana were on good terms, but the vigilante didn't know anything about this new guy…not yet. Next, Chelsea pushed open the door where music was sounding off from and Nelson yelped at the intruders as the jock was in nothing but his boxers – banana print for whatever Godforsaken reason. "GOD, CHELSEA!" Nash yelled a few octaves higher than he would've liked, covering himself like some cartoon character or something. "You ever heard of knocking?!"

Chelsea rolled her eyes, unbothered by his invasion of privacy in the least bit. "My house, Nash. Remember?" Cunningham looked around the room curiously before placing a hand on her hip and eyeing the sports captain. "Where's Max?"

"THE HELL IF I KNOW!"

"She hasn't been in here?"

"Hello, dreg! I'd tell you if she was!"

"No need to get defensive. I was just asking."

"Last I saw she was heading into that room at the end of the hall. That's probably where she is – unless you busted in on her naked too!"

Terry rolled his eyes and headed out the room as Chelsea scoffed. "Don't be so juvenile, Nash. You're in boxers."

Nelson growled as Terry disappeared from view until McGinnis snickered and popped his head back into the doorway. "Hey Nash…nice bananas. Trying to make up for something?" McGinnis took off for the end of the hall, chuckling at Nash's yells of rage and Chelsea's demands for him to calm down as the black haired teen entered the last bedroom. "Max?" he asked after softly knocking on the door so as to not have another Nelson incident…Unfortunately the room was empty save for her belongings. Terry touched her suitcase splayed out on the canopy bead as he whistled in awe at the room's beauty before stepping out onto the patio, thinking she'd be there. Instead of finding Max, he wound up looking on the other end and making direct eye contact with the dude that had Dana wrapped up in his arms. Tan stared down the way and smiled, giving her ex-boyfriend a friendly wave. Terry smiled back and nodded his head at the two before regaining his initial search. Okay, so she wasn't out here. McGinnis headed back into the room and caught sight of the second door wide open revealing a set of stairs. Terry rounded the door and peered inside before slowly making his way up them and arriving into whole other room. So this was like…a lighthouse tower or something? Just missing the signaling light.

That's when he saw her. Up ahead through the doors, outside on the porch, Max leaned against the railing. McGinnis bit his bottom lip as his eyes averted to her extended, plump rump in those jean shorts. He shook his head, reminding himself that she was just his best friend…McGinnis approaches quietly, thinking to himself how perfect this place was for her and wondering how hard of a struggle would it be to drag her out of it during the weekend. Once close enough, Terry wrapped his arms around the girl's waist as she froze with a loud, surpised gasp. Mischievously, the neo-hero placed his lips at her ear and whispered, "Miss me?"

Max gasped yet again and wheeled around to face her best friend as her dark eyes peered into his icy blue ones with absolute glee. "Terry!" she cried out with a giggle of joy while McGinnis let out a loud laugh. Max threw her arms around the secret Batman's neck and stood on her toes as his arms tightened around the genius girl's waist and pulled her deeper into his body with an involuntary shiver. "You made it!"

"Don't sound so surprised," McGinnis pouted before she pulled back and gave him a genuine grin of pleasure at his presence. "I told you I would make it, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but you're becoming such a good liar now-," she teased as his eyes widened in amused shock.

"Heeeeyyyy," returned the lad, reaching to mess her hair as Max ducked and struggled against him with laughter as Terry began to tickle the girl instead. After a few moments of wrestling the two teens stared at one another with bright smiles. "Ready to have fun for this weekend?"

"Hell yeah," answered Gibson with exasperation. "I could use a vacation."

Terry nodded, looking out at the water as the waves crashed against the sand in a mesmerizing rhythm. "It's gonna be a lot of fun." He made Max face the beautiful world outside as his arms once more wrapped around her waist and he pulled her back into his chest. That's when he noted the book in her hand and leaned his face over his best friend's shoulder to get a better look at the title. " _The Count of Monte Cristo_?" he asked, reaching out a hand and lightly touching the cover.

"Mmhmm," replied Max as the girl reached and touched his hand before rotating the book about. "It's a really good book. Between spending time with you guys and reading this, I'm gonna be one happy chick."

"Yeah, well, just make sure I'm the first and last thing you do on…this…oh God…" Terry slapped himself upside the head with his hand as he groaned and Max chuckled at his wording. "You know what I mean…"

"Never knew you'd get jealous of a book, Terry."

"You're my best friend. I get jealous of everything." Their attention diverted to the right as Chelsea stood on the patio with Dana and waved them down, shouting something about heading into town. Terry and Max acknowledged the call and turned off the private balcony to saunter back into the tower to come down. As they approached the steps, McGinnis took Max's hand to make sure she could get down okay before stating, "I'm glad we're spending this weekend together, Max."

Max squeezed his hand tighter in her own and grinned softly. "Me too, Ter. Thanks for coming."

* * *

Chelsea headed into the bedroom with Dana, smiling to herself as Tan noted, "The two of them seem to have gotten much closer over the summer." Dana smirked, adjusting the cleavage of her dress after her make out session with Brent. "Think they'll finally get together?"

Chelsea gave Tan a devious smirk. "I think-."


	4. Chapter 4

_It's been forever with this story. Something I threw together!_

* * *

 _ **Storm's Sojourn**_

 **Chapter Four**

* * *

Some moments later, the group in its entirety stood outside the beautiful beach home – crowded around the parked cars and motorcycle like elementary kids single filing for a bathroom run. With everyone finally arrived, Chelsea decided now was a better time as any to head into town and grab some necessities before the afternoon rush picked up. The schools here had already started, and mid-afternoons until the early evenings would be swarmed with parents either before the kids got out, or right after; and the last thing Cunningham wanted was to ruin her peaceful Zen with the thought of a confrontation with an overabundance of wild children. Seriously. Who even _wanted_ those little monsters? Plus, going now would also free up the rest of the day for the teens to enjoy the fruits of North Gotham Bay's beachfront as intended.

Not everyone was 100% crazy about making errands in town though. Nelson Nash had just gotten off a very long flight – then drove from the airport all the way here; what _he_ wanted was to catch up on some much needed sleep. But alas, Nash's hopes were immediately sent into an abyss of fury at such an idea. Chelsea was not having it, and in the end the sports junkie found himself silenced into compliance. Once that trivial matter was resolved, finally it was agreed. _Everyone_ was going.

To save on gas, the group of friends decided to hitch a ride in newcomer Brent's pickup truck. The bed would be able to hold way more groceries and the opportunity would give everyone time to get a larger judging dose of Dana's new boyfriend. Dana and Brent naturally assumed their positions up front while Chelsea, Terry, Nelson, and Max chose to squeeze into the three-seat rear. With the first three already in place, Gibson hesitated outside of the started black vehicle with a look lacking surety. "Chels," began the pink haired genius with a shake of the head from the driveway. "This isn't going to work."

Chelsea leaned forward from between both boys and raised a brow in complete ignorance as her palms gripped the back of Dana and Brent's seats for balance. "What do you mean?" she asked in a tone that made the African American genius falter with a tinge curiosity.

Something told Gibson that Cunningham was up to something – something the pink haired femme wouldn't be too keen on enjoying. The chances of that assumption being correct were way too high for comfort. Max folded her arms and slouched her wide hips to the right as she pointed a finger straight for the cab of the truck; expression almost unbelieving of her blonde friend's obliviousness. "It only fits _three_ , Chelsea!"

Dana looked over a shoulder and assessed the situation before decreeing with all the simplicity of the world: "Just get on someone's lap."

Nelson's expression lit up in anticipation at the idea and Max raised her hands to stop any thoughts of agreement on that subject matter, face growing red – redder than even Terry's. "No way! Chelsea can sit on someone's lap. She's way lighter than me."

Brent wrapped an arm around Dana's seat and gave Gibson an analyzing look over. He smirked. "I don't see the issue here."

"Yeah, Max," chimed Nelson with a devious smirk. "Now, the only question is: who's the lucky guy that gets you on their lap?"

Almost instantaneously, as if a powerfully mind blowing realization struck her in the gut, Chelsea Cunningham sat up rigidly, threw up a hand, and exclaimed loudly with such vigor that it earned the girl stares from all the teens: "I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE!"

Silence seemed to overwhelm not only the car, but the entirety of the beachfront as well as everyone continued to gawk at Chelsea – some with stares of hilarity, some with annoyance, and the rest with complete and utter confusion. "Wha…what…?" asked Terry, dumbfounded.

Chelsea flipped her barely there locks as if the suggestion was as ingenious as it was uncomplicated. "It's just easier that way. Besides, you boys obviously don't think you're going to be rewarded with Max on your laps when one of you was late—," she added giving Terry a death glare before turning her harsh gaze for Nelson and going, "—and the other scared the crap out of us when he arrived?" Both teens averted their faces from Chelsea, overwhelmed by the girl's threatening eyes. "Think again twips."

Max gulped, however. "Chelsea you're smaller than I am. You should sit on my lap-."

Okay, that was absolutely it! "GOD, MAX!" exclaimed Cunningham with a ferocious lean forward, directing her frustration toward the brilliant girl now as it was becoming more and more apparent that her impatience to get a move on was growing. "DON'T MAKE ME GET OUT OF THIS CAR!"

Life was better than death. Without another word and within an instant, Max leaped inside the car, shimmied past Terry, and gently plopped down on Chelsea's lap, both boys turning immediately red as Cunningham tied her slender arms about Gibson's curvy waist and pulled the black femme back against her breasts; giving each boy a smug look of victory as Max chuckled. "Mine," she teased possessively. The vehicle erupted into a rush of laughter as the truck began to back up and pull out of the driveway towards the street. As the group made their way, they took notice of little scenic views they hadn't noticed coming in – coming to appreciate this weird little town a lot more than when they'd first arrived. Some minutes later, Brent parked curbside in the heart of _Village Center_ in front of _Cristoff's Grocery_ – a small but, according to Chelsea, well stocked market and drug store that had been around and family run since North Gotham Bay was first founded "back in the stone age". The kids filed out and entered the quaint supermarket already with an idea of what to get as they followed after Chelsea in this unacquainted place like little puppy dogs. Aside from basic necessities for the weekend, the cart quickly found itself filling up with countless extras from each teen before they could even begin shopping for dinner. The girls had been chattering almost the whole ride about what they were going to put together for the night: Dana was going to do a chicken Greek salad and homemade biscuits, Chelsea would make a pot of crab legs, and Max had volunteered to come up with a pan of shrimp alfredo. When asked the boys what they would contribute to dinner: Brent offered his ID along with some cash from Terry and Nelson to buy a couple of light drinks. It was a miniscule offering in comparison to the girls doing all the cooking, but would have to do.

Once their voyaging in the grocery store had been completed and the groceries tossed into the pick-up bed, the teens headed across the street to the fruit market where they split up to speed through the shopping process since Chelsea claimed her "brat senses" were tingling. In other words: the chance of running into kids was getting too close to comfort for Cunningham. So the high schoolers divided: Nelson and Brent, Chelsea and Max, and Terry and Dana.

As they walked around with their handbaskets, mesmerized by the vast selection of delectable vegetables and fruits, Dana and Terry allowed a comfortable silence to follow them for a few minutes before Dana picked up a Honeycrisp apple and, while carefully assessing it, stated, "You seem to be doing well, Terry."

McGinnis pulls alongside Dana with a softened expression, toying with a Golden Delicious in the next pile. "So are you." He pauses. "You look beautiful, Dana. You've got a glow."

Well that was surprising. Pleasant, but somehow surprising nonetheless. Terry knew Dana had been dating since not long after they broke up, but never met the guy or was around much to see the effects of it. Then summer vacation came and, well, it was obvious. In truth, she had been worried about Terry meeting Brent. She wanted his approval, and wanted him to be okay with her choice. But somehow she never expected for her ex to admit that he noticed how happy she was. It was both delightful and humbling, and in this moment Dana had never been happier that the two of them remained friends throughout this. Now she wanted to return the favor of pure happiness. Tan looked up to him with a genuine grin. "I guess that's what love does. I used to for you, remember?"

McGinnis chuckled, grabbing a plastic bag and helping his ex-girlfriend place a ton of apples inside for purchase. "I was an idiot for not keeping you glowing," the secret Dark Knight admitted openly.

Dana took his hand as they moved over to look at some fresh vegetables priced much better here than at the grocery before slipping them into a bag as well. "I still do, Terry. It just…dimmed a little. But you know what?" Dana asked, gently gripping his chin and forcing his eyes to her caring ones. "I think there's always going to be a part of me that will love you – I just think that love fits more as friendship, now. Maybe it could have been different if Gotham hadn't hit so hard back when your father passed, and everything after. But in our own way we're still together – and always be." They both smiled at that.

She'd changed so much since their breakup – in ways that would have made him fall even deeper in love with her than before. But that wasn't their fate, and he had come to accept and respect that. Instead of pain and jealousy, he felt awed and blessed to have her still in his life. Terry squeezed Tan's hand, causing her to look at him as he sighed with his eyes lidded in emotion. "Thank you, Dana. For still wanting to be my friend – especially after everything I put you through. I thought you'd hate me and…well, to be honest: I don't know if I could live without knowing you were still in my life."

"Awww, Ter," giggled Dana, pulling McGinnis into a strong, reaffirming hug. "We had some rough times, but no matter what you have always mattered to me. I could never hate you, I could never shut you out. We've been too much to one another to do that." McGinnis nodded in agreement and Dana released the hug, moving the two over to look at some raspberries before she caught eye of Chelsea and Max a few rows over turning over pineapples. Chelsea spotted Dana and grinned mischievously – Dana smirked right back. "So," Tan started casually. "Max seems to be having fun."

Unbeknownst to her agenda, Terry nodded; not even fighting back his smile at the mention of his best friend in the least bit as the secret hero ran a hand through his inked hair. "Yeah. I'm glad too. It's been pretty rough for her back home."

That put the plan on the backburner quick, fast, and in a hurry. Dana had pretty much forgotten how out of the loop she was with everybody's lives since summer vacation – so the slightest hint that things weren't as pleasant as she'd imagined put the girl in a tizzy of worry. "Really?" asked Dana with a raised brow of concern. "Everything okay?"

McGinnis shrugged in defeat. "I honestly don't have the slightest clue. She won't talk to me about it."

Now Dana really _was_ concerned. There wasn't much that Max didn't or wouldn't open up to Terry about. Or any of them for that matter. Despite Max being mostly open, Dana prided herself in having a fairly strong connection with Gibson – so the fact that there was something the genius was keeping from them unnerved Tan quite more than she initially thought it would. Then again, maybe things weren't quite as bad as Terry thought? "Well, have you _tried_ talking to _her_ about it?"

Now it was McGinnis's turn to get confounded for the day. "What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded, noticing her emphasis and not exactly sure how to take it.

Not wanting to turn this into an argument, Dana turned her back to him and continued overlooking the packaged raspberries, though with very little interest by this point. "I'm just saying that sometimes it's not that people _won't_ talk to you; it's just not always easy getting a minute _to_ talk to you."

"Now wait a minute-."

"And sometimes," adds the Asian beauty, "you have a lack of finesse in recognizing when something's wrong."

Terry felt the anger in his chest threatening to spill over as his mind initially began to take her words as insults and offense. But his training with Bruce had proven itself more beneficial than just physically, but emotionally and mentally as well. Instead of snapping off like the old him would have done, the teen gained control over his emotions (though it was still one hell of a struggle), and recognized that Dana wasn't attacking him; she was trying to get a better angle on the situation – something Terry had to admit he wasn't quite so good at, at times…Batman training or not. McGinnis took a deep breath, exhaled slowly and answered: "You're right." He ignored the swift spin of shock Dana just gave and continued. "I do have a megasonic problem in seeing the whole picture; or even wanting to. I'm working on it. But this drama with Max isn't just me over or underreacting. Something is up. Really up. I know I've been a dreg in the past-."

"Still are," teased Dana.

Terry snorted. "—but I'm not making this up. I know Max; maybe not as much as I _should_ , but enough…"

Dana tried to keep the corner of her lips from going up into a crooked smile, but she could barely keep them from spreading at all. God, they were so adorable it felt like her ovaries were about to burst. Chelsea waved at the two in indication that the group was getting ready to check out, and Dana tossed some raspberries into the basket before quickly making her way up front with Terry at her side. "I love how close you two have gotten."

Terry looked curiously down at his ex-girlfriend. "Max and I have always been close, Dana."

"Not like this, McGinnis. There's something stronger about the two of you – it's been that way since the school year almost ended. A connection."

Terry bit his lip and thought on it for a second as they approached the group. "I guess we have gotten closer than normal. She's been there for me a lot since last year. I kind of owe a lot of what I've become to her."

"You'd do anything for her," Dana recognized.

"In a heartbeat," McGinnis answered without a pause.

"…She's your soul?"

Silence at first. "…I guess in a way she is."

Dana hesitated. They were only a few feet from the others and if she was going to say it – if she was going to tease him and get his mind open and working without putting him in a bind – she had to do it now while they were still somewhat out of earshot. Dana continued to look forward, rummaging through the basket in a nonchalant manner as if her next declaration really wasn't important at all. Terry was staring at Max's back as they got closer. Perfect. "You," stated Dana with ease, "love her."

He'd heard the statement – but somehow it hadn't fully registered with him like it should have. Loved her? Of course McGinnis loved her. She was his best friend. They said it to one another religiously. But it wasn't until after he'd said, "With my life…" that what Dana possibly meant actually struck him hard in the gut, causing the vigilante to snatch his gaze from Max back to Tan with widened, unbelieving eyes. He didn't know if he was more caught off guard by her statement itself, or in the brief flitter of contentment that rushed through the Batman's chest at the swift thought that even in the "other way", his answer would still be the same. Flustered, Terry tried to clean up his mess: "I…uh…mean…well, she…you know is…my best, er, friend, and, uh, everything…?"

They had arrived amongst the rest of the group, and were congregated together as the teens began to pull out their findings for purchase. Dana smirked and faced Terry with the most innocent yet wicked look he'd ever seen. Oh God. Dana Tan's dark smile spread even further at his discomfort, knowing her work here was complete; she scoffed playfully at the rigid and flabbergasted lad: "Look who's glowing now, McGinnis." Without another word she turned and linked arms with Max and Chelsea as the three girls waited for the clerk to finish ringing up the fruit, leaving McGinnis trapped in bewilderment until he caught sight of an officer that had walked into the fruit market eye their group and begin to approach. The officer was older in age, wearing a standard brown uniform and removing the large hat on his head. The hat was a giveaway…

"Chelsea Cunningham…" came the officer's voice in recognition as Chelsea glanced over and smiled lightly. "Well I'll be a bat out in daylight…"

"Hey there, Sheriff," replied Chelsea as she then introduced: "Everyone, this is Sheriff James Daly. Sheriff, these are my friends from Gotham."

Sheriff Daly tipped his hat with a heartfelt grin. "Quite a group you got here, Miss Cunningham: strapping young lads and beautiful young women." He winked at the blonde. "Your daddy know what you up to, up here in the Bay?"

Chelsea's shoulders immediately stiffened. "Believe me, Sheriff – even if he didn't, he wouldn't care in the least bit."

Sheriff Daly's expression seemed to take a turn for grief at that assessment, and Terry felt a twinge of guilt for Chelsea's dad only on Sheriff's account. "You know he's a good man," whispered Daly with a sorrowful expression.

"Yeah?" sassed Chelsea alongside folded arms and a firm look. "Well maybe I'd know it if he started _acting_ like it."

The Sheriff cleared his throat and stood up straight, obviously trying to push the girl's cold words out of mind. To be completely honest, it bothered him way more than he would have liked. Here in North Gotham Bay, the people were fairly family oriented. To them, there was no stronger bond – and Mr. Cunningham hadn't always been as…empty as he was now. In fact, he and his wife used to come to the Bay quite often and it was almost like they belonged. By the time they had Chelsea, the Cunningham's pretty much became a beloved part of the North Gotham Bay community – friends, even. And then… "Well, anyways," started the Sheriff; switching to another subject. "I suspect you kids are heading back into Gotham?"

The teenagers gave one another strange looks as Chelsea unfolded her arms and raised a brow. "We actually just arrived, Daly."

"I don't think sticking around is a good idea Miss Cunningham," urged the lawman with a serious look. "We've got a storm pushing in tonight – one hell of a one, by the sound of it. By the time school is out Village Center is going to be flooded with folks buying necessities to hold them over. It's not going to be pretty," added the Sheriff as he looked over his shoulder at the sound of his radio buzzing in the squad car parked out front. "Head back to Gotham, Chelsea. Shoreline Estates is the worse place to be when the weather gets ghast. Later kids." He tipped his hat farewell and jogged out the front doors.

"Ghast?" asked Nelson, loading some kiwis onto the conveyer belt before giving the female clerk a flirtatious wink.

Chelsea rubbed her neck and answered, "It's short for 'ghastly': frightening, terrifyingly horrible to the senses." She shrugged it off, however. "But I'm sure shiz is okay. The Bay never has anything major going on around this time of year. It's the winters you really got to worry about."

Pacified by their host's claim, the teens' growing apprehension and disquiet of the weekend potentially being less relaxing than expected began to dwindle, and the task at hand of getting the groceries purchased and loaded back into Brent's pick-up became their only concern and objective. Good times were back on the menu once again!

But with one problem pushed onto the backburner, another made its way to the forefront for Terry McGinnis as he watched his former girlfriend shimmy Chelsea slightly away from the group as the others took hold the bags and began to walk outside to cross the street to their waiting chariot. Dana whispered something into Chelsea's ear, and it was when the two coy females both gave Terry such disturbingly impish looks that he realized something was coming. Something that not even Bruce could have prepared him for.

His eyes fell once more onto Max as she walked outside of the fruit market and looked both ways before lightly jogging across the street to the truck. He felt a sudden flutter, one that he had had countless times before whenever he saw her…touched her…like he felt when he saw her a while ago on the edge of the balcony overlooking the beach with one of her favorite books in hand: happy, peaceful, beautiful. But this time, it was so much stronger to the point it nearly debilitated him. "Oh…shit…"

* * *

 _To be continued..._


End file.
